


stars around my scars

by roseblushheart



Category: The Last Hours Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: AUgust - Freeform, Album: folklore (Taylor Swift), Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst with a Happy Ending, Art, Based on a Taylor Swift Song, Betty - Freeform, Childhood Friends to Lovers, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Miscommunication, Underage Drinking, blink-and-you-miss-it herongraystairs, cardigan, mostly fluff tbh i dont like it when people are sad, mundane AU, no beta we die like the giant worm (serpent actually) benedict turned into, will update tags as I write!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 00:42:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28965546
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roseblushheart/pseuds/roseblushheart
Summary: In the modern day and age, Cordelia Carstairs has been moving around the world for her parents' company for the past five years. They recently realised, though, that their hectic lifestyle did more harm than good, and so they had decided to move back to the town where Cordelia and her brother Alastair had grown up.Moving back means many things, like being reunited with her best friend, Lucie, and Lucie's brother, James, who had been Cordelia's childhood crush.But what sounds like returning to simplistic life in a small English town ends up being more complicated than Cordelia ever could have imagined. Why was James so distant all those years? Who is Grace? What does Matthew Fairchild, James' friend, want from her exactly? And what happened between her brother and Thomas Lightwood?Or, someone had to do it, so I did: the James/Cordelia/Grace fic (loosely) based on the teenage love triangle songs (betty, cardigan and august)Modern, all mundane AU.
Relationships: Alastair Carstairs/Thomas Lightwood, Ariadne Bridgestock/Anna Lightwood, Cordelia Carstairs/James Herondale, Cordelia Carstairs/Matthew Fairchild, Grace Blackthorn/James Herondale
Comments: 17
Kudos: 90





	1. prologue

Cordelia Carstairs set foot in her hometown for the first time in five years. The April air was chilly, but her coat kept her comfortably warm.

She hadn’t lived in the same place for longer than a year since she was 11, but for once, they had moved to stay. Her parents ran a successful company, and as a result, they had moved around during her entire teenage years to chase whatever business opportunity came up next. 

Eventually, though, they had realised that it was impossible to keep it up, and that their hectic lifestyle caused them more stress than anything, so they had decided to move right back to where they came from.

Neither Cordelia nor her older brother Alastair had minded the travelling much. Walking down the Champs-Élysées in Paris and meeting her cousin Emma in LA had all been amazing experiences. For every experience she gained by travelling all over the world, though, she felt like she lost one, too. 

Her teenage years had been extraordinary, but she felt like she had completely missed everything being a teenager was _supposed_ to be about. 

She had never been to a proper party, never kissed anyone, and because of the constant moving around, she didn’t have many close friends either. As soon as someone had become her acquaintance, they would have to move once more.

Right now, there were only two people she considered her friends: Lucie and James Herondale.

They had met as children, and essentially grew up together. Lucie had cried for days when Cordelia told her she was leaving.

Lucie was adamant on keeping the friendship alive, though, and had texted her nearly every day in the five years she was gone, and sent the occasional email if she felt what she needed to say was too long and complicated to say over text.

Despite the distance, they were still incredibly involved in each other’s lives. Cordelia had beta-read all of Lucies fanfics. Lucie made sure to send Cordelia details on whatever drama her brother and his friends were caught up in.

Cordelia knew of them, James’ friend group, but she had not been friends with them when she still lived in her hometown. They had always been friends-of-a-friend to her, people that occasionally came up in James or Lucie’s stories. Cordelia had never actually met them, as they had gone to a different primary school than her, James, and Lucie.

They were mostly strangers, but she had pieced together information about them throughout the years, based on Lucie’s emails.

The Merry Thieves, as they were commonly referred to, consisted of four people: Christopher Lightwood, a scientist with a kind heart, his cousin Thomas Lightwood, a stubborn but sweet jock, Matthew Fairchild, a flamboyant charmer, and James Herondale.

James had been Cordelia’s best friend throughout her childhood, and the oblivious object of her affections. It was silly. A childhood crush on the only boy she had ever felt close to. But still, no matter how young she was, she knew that what she had felt for him was real.

In the years she was gone, she still dreamed in memories of him. His golden eyes in the sun, his dark hair floating around him like a cloud when they went swimming, his hand in hers as they marched through the forest right outside town together. 

James texted her, too, but not as much as Lucie did. They hadn’t really been close friends in a while, and any emotional attachment was a remnant of their younger years. James had taken his distance for her, for a reason that Cordelia never quite understood. 

What Cordelia did understand, though, was that James loving her would never be anything beyond a fantasy she would dream up when she couldn’t sleep at night. It would never be, but sometimes it was nice to think about the what-ifs.

She would never return to her hometown and James would find some other girl to marry and that would be it.

Except she did return.

Not only Lucie, but James, too, had been there to greet her at the airport, and for a second there, she felt her heart drop and butterflies rise in her stomach at the sight of him, and every rational thought of how James would never think of her that way left her mind entirely.

She felt guilty about her feelings for James being louder than the excitement of seeing her best friend for the first time in five years. Cordelia tried to push it away, but even now, a car ride home later, every time she looked at him she felt something hopeless.

He now stood on the curb in front of her house, caught up in some idle discussion with Lucie, and she couldn’t help but think of how he both looked like the boy she knew and a complete stranger. 

His face had become sharper, his eyes more intense, his hair longer and somehow messier than it was when he was ten years old and running through the woods with her. She had seen photos of him, of course, but none of them truly did him justice.

  
  


“A pretty sight, isn’t he?” A voice cut through her reverie. “James, I mean. Not that he has any clue he’s unnervingly gorgeous. Goes straight over his head. It’s equal amounts endearing and concerning.” 

“I wasn’t-- I mean, I _was_ looking, but I wasn’t looking-- I mean, not like _that_ ,” Cordelia stammered. “Um, who are you again?” 

The golden-haired boy that stood in front of her cast her a dashing smile, and Cordelia thought to herself, _did they change the laws to make it illegal to be anything but gorgeous in this town?_

“Matthew Fairchild. I’m sure you’ve heard lots about me. I actually live right down the street here,” Matthew said, and pointed in a vague direction, probably towards one of the houses.

“Right, of course! I’ve seen you in a few pictures, I think,” Cordelia said. She figured it wouldn’t be a good idea to mention the countless emails Lucie had sent her that described every aspect of him in the greatest detail.

Lucie had had something of a crush on him for a while, when she was fourteen and he was fifteen, but it had passed entirely. The current owner of her heart was a boy she had met online named Jesse Blackthorn. 

Lucie didn’t seem to care that they wouldn't be able to feel each other’s touch until either of them had a concrete plan for visiting. She had always been someone who preferred souls over faces. Their meaningful contact was enough for her to be entirely infatuated.

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Cordelia said, and stuck out her hand to shake his, which he gently took into his own and bent over to press a kiss on instead. Cordelia felt a deep blush heat her cheeks, and tried to think of something to say to that intimate gesture, but her mind was wiped blank.

“MATTHEW! _”_ Lucie was walking towards them from where she was standing at an impressive speed. “Please refrain from hitting on my friends. I refuse to let you near-destroy _another_ friendship.”

Cordelia opened her mouth to say something about how she was absolutely not being hit on, because she did not ever get hit on, so this was clearly _not_ getting hit on, but Matthew spoke first. “Okay, first of all, that was _once_ , and it wasn’t nearly as dramatic as you make it out to be--”

Cordelia let Matthew and Lucies voices fade into the background, not understanding the conversation anyway, and looked over to where James was standing. He had not followed his sister to Cordelia’s side. 

She was hoping to see jealousy in his eyes, anger at his best friend making a move on her before he could, any sign that he wanted her.

But his eyes were blank, and he just stood here. Not even Lucies shrill voice had made him do as much as turn his head towards her. He probably hadn’t even noticed that something had been going on. 

He had not been watching her like she had been watching him. He probably never would.

  
  


Trying to ignore the sinking feeling in her gut, she turned back to Lucie and Matthew. 

“...And not only did it turn out fine, I also caused some personal realisations to happen, so honestly, it was a win-win,” Matthew argued. Lucie rolled her eyes. She tried to fake annoyance, but the smile on her lips gave her away. Lucie could never truly be annoyed with Matthew. Her fondness always overpowered any negative feelings she could possibly have towards him.

“Am I wrong, though? Am I?” Matthew smiled a shit-eating grin at Lucie, to which she replied by putting her whole hand on his face. Cordelia couldn’t help but giggle at the sight. 

Matthew turned his face (and Lucie’s hand) towards her. “She does this more often than you’d think.”

Lucie took back her hand. “Because it’s the only thing that efficiently shuts you up. Now, please stop distracting Cordelia, as she has a lot of things to unpack.

“Alright, alright,” Matthew said, “I’ll be going then. See you at school, Cordelia?”

Matthew was the same age as James, who was the same age as Cordelia, which meant that they would be in the same year. “Yes. You will. After the Easter holidays.” 

Matthew nodded. “After the holidays. Looking forward to it.” He winked at her and walked away from them.

Cordelia blinked. “He’s... “ 

Lucie sighed. “Yep.”

“You were right, though,” Cordelia said, “about the unpacking thing. I have like, 16 boxes I need to go through if I want to sleep tonight. The house still had furniture in it, as her parents had intended to return to it more often than they did throughout the years, but all her personal belongings were still packed up.

Lucie shot her an empathetic look. “Good luck. I’d honestly help you out, but I seriously don’t have any time. I still need to do all my reading before school starts. At this point, I’ll have to read a book and a half a day. Not even SparkNotes can save me for this one.” 

“Perhaps you should have spent less time writing and more time reading, then,” Cordelia teased. 

Lucie dramatically gasped. “Are you saying school is more important than my Spiderman AU?” 

Cordelia laughed. “No, of course not, I’m sorry for ever even implying it.” 

“That’s more like it”, Lucie said, and pulled her into a side hug. Cordelia had truly missed her every single day.

“I can help you unpack, if you want.” A voice sounded from behind her.

James, she realised.

Cordelia turned around to face him. She still wasn’t used to how handsome he had become. It completely caught her off guard every time. “I.. Yes. I’d like that.” 

“Alright. Then I will,” James said. 

Lucie had gone home with her parents, while James stayed and helped her sort through the boxes. “James, how lovely of you,” her mother had said, and “James, all I asked was for you to get Cordelia to come inside, _you_ are allowed to go home,” her father had joked. Alastair had not commented on any of it, and disappeared up to his room within seconds.

It was odd, standing in a bedroom which felt both familiar and completely foreign, especially while standing next to a boy who felt both like her closest friend and a complete stranger.

“Do you remember,” James said, when they had gotten all her boxes upstairs, “When I had a bad case of the flu, and you read to me?” 

Cordelia smiled. “I remember. Your mum told me not to sit so close to you, because then you might make me sick too.” 

“And then I actually did make you sick,” James said, eyes wandering around the room, a fond smile on his lips. “As soon as my mum let me leave the house, I returned the favour and read to you, too. Right here.” 

Cordelia watched his hand move across the wood of her old bed. 

“It almost feels wrong to be back in a place that belongs to the past,” she said. “We made so many memories here. Trying to move it into the present is a bit unnatural to me.” 

James looked at her, and for a moment, she saw the boy from her childhood again. “Guess we’ll just have to make more memories here, then.”

She smiled. “I’d like that.” 

  
  


They had sorted through the boxes together. He still remembered the name of the stuffed animals she had dragged around the world since he had last seen them. She shared stories of the objects that were unfamiliar to him that she had bought in faraway places. He inspected every single book that he came across before putting it on the shelf, and she gave a short summary of what it was about if he hadn’t read it yet. There were few books he had not read. They had always had a similar taste in novels, and not even the time and space they were apart had changed that.

It was like they had never even been apart, and Cordelia realised that it wasn’t the house that made this place feel like her true home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi i hope you enjoyed this!!! it's the first multi-chapter fic i'll be writing, ever (rip to my abandoned multi chapter fic i started in like 2016 but this is different), and although i have a p good idea of what plot points i want i have NO IDEA how long it will end up being. i'm guessing between 6-10 chapters but i DONT know.
> 
> i'll try to update as regularly as i can, but i have no idea if my uni work will allow it. if it's taking too long, just leave 10 comments and i'll write again.
> 
> just for context: cordelia is 16 here, meaning she is about to start 6th form. she has 2 more years (and a bit) until she graduates. she left her hometown after completing primary school. right now, theyre on easter break, which is the holidays between the spring term and summer term in mid-april. i am telling you these things because i am NOT british and if youre anything like me you are probably deeply confused by international education systems, lol.
> 
> anyway! let me know if you liked this :)
> 
> xx victoria
> 
> (also, dont ask me about the logistics of keeping a house full of furniture. it just sounds like a thing rich people would do, and i imagine that cordelia and her parents wouldn't drag around furniture all over the world if they moved around that much.)


	2. giving me your weekends

“Wait, I don’t understand, why did you transfer while we’re two-thirds through the school year again?” 

Christopher Lightwood’s lavender eyes peered at Cordelia from behind his glasses. “Because her parents were bored of travelling the world and/or thought their children should be allowed a slight sense of stability in their formative years, and Cordelia would rather stick her hand in a blender than endure three more months of unnecessary homeschooling,” Matthew said. “Please keep up, Kit.” 

“Well… It’s something along those lines, at least,” Cordelia said. Cordelia had almost made it through her first month at school, and she had met, and more importantly, become comfortable around most of James and Lucie’s friends by now.

It was strange to see them as real life people. Everything she knew about them, she knew because of Lucie’s stories. They were almost fictional to her, as if they were characters from a book instead of real, breathing people.

But here they were, all sitting together for lunch. They were quick to accept her as a new part of her group, which Cordelia was incredibly grateful for. 

“Again, thank you for letting me hang out with you. Making friends at a new school is incredibly hard as is, and it’s even worse in the middle of the year. I was sort of afraid I would be completely alone here,” she admitted, somewhat embarrassed. She didn’t like acknowledging that her time moving from place to place had left her completely incompetent when it came to making friends.

“Look, if Bella can move halfway through the year and still have a hot vampire romance with Edward, you’re totally able to do that too,” Lucie said. 

Christopher blinked. “I seriously do not understand anything of what you just said.”

“It’s a girl thing,” Lucie said.

“It’s a bad taste thing,” James said.

“If you cannot appreciate the post-modern masterpiece that is Twilight, that is your problem, not ours,” Cordelia said, and immediately regretted it. She didn’t mean to sound as rude as she did. “I mean, I...”

“What she means,” Matthew cut in, as he shot her a friendly look, “Is that if you looked at it as a piece of art in its respective genre, said genre being trashy unrealistic Hollywood romances, you would understand that it’s not just a story. It’s an _experience_ ,” Matthew wiggled his fingers at the last word, presumably for added drama.

“Exactly,” Lucie said. “I really expected you of all people to be able to see beyond the face value of a story, James. Very disappointing.” 

James gave the both of them a friendly shove. “I truly cannot stand either of you.”

In an attempt at payback, Matthew grabbed him and messed up his hair, which didn’t have much effect as it was permanently stuck as a dark mess anyway. 

Cordelia had spent a considerable amount of her week wondering how it was possible for someone to look so disheveled at all times, and how it was possible for someone to look so good while looking so disheveled at all times, too. Perhaps more the latter than the former.

“We’ll just have to watch it together, then,” James said as he tried to flatten his hair in a futile attempt to make it less unkempt. “And perhaps then I will understand what hidden depths make Twilight such a masterpiece. How’s this weekend?”

“I can’t,” Matthew said. “I’ve got some stuff for uni applications planned on Saturday, and I think I’m going to need a full 48 hours to emotionally recover from that.” 

“And me and Christopher are meeting for a school project this Sunday,” Lucie said. “They already gave us an assignment, and we haven’t even been back at school for a full month. Can you believe that?”

Since Lucie was a year younger than Codelia, she was a year below her, too. Cordelia had been disappointed to realise they wouldn’t have any classes together, but they did end up in the same form group, as those had students from several years mixed together. It was something, at least.

“The weekend after, then?” James asked. “Friday?”

“You’re all busy that Friday. Anna’s hosting a party, and you’re all invited. Anna’s place.”

Cordelia turned to see who had spoken. Thomas Lightwood, Christopher’s cousin, had appeared next to her. 

Cordelia still barely knew Thomas. She simply hadn’t had any opportunity to get to know him yet, as he was a year older than her, and therefore in a different year like Lucie and Christopher were. All she knew was that he was related to Christopher and the Herondales, had two sisters at uni, and that he was on the school basketball team, which made sense, considering he was 195 cm tall and built like a brick house.

He probably shared some classes with her older brother, Cordelia realised, as they were the same age. She hadn’t heard Alastair talk about him. She hadn’t heard Alastair talk about anything school related.

Despite looking intimidating, Thomas was quite shy, and he preferred sitting with his close friends over sitting with people from his own year. It wasn’t that he didn’t like them, or that they didn’t like him, Lucie had told her. He just preferred being around people he knew extremely well.

“You should come, too, Cordelia,” James said. “You’ll like it, I think.” 

“I’ll be there!” Cordelia said, grateful to jump on any opportunity to spend time with-- With people from around here. In her eagerness, she hadn’t realised the mistake until after she made it: “Wait, hold on, who’s Anna again?”

A few of the boys laughed at that, and she felt embarrassment heat up her face.

“Anna is Christopher’s older sibling,” James explained.

“And also the single best party host in the whole town,” Matthew added. “Which doesn’t say a whole lot, since, like, 10 people live here, but still.” 

“I’ll text you the address and time, okay?” James said, with a gentle smile. It was nice to imagine this was because he specifically wanted her to be there, but this was just how James was. Eager to include everyone at all times.

“Okay,” she said. A bell rang, indicating that lunch break was over and that it was time for the next class.

“Maths, right?” James asked. She nodded. “Me too. I’ll show you the way.” 

Maths class passed in a haze. Tiredness from the busy week clouded her mind. It wasn’t long until the weekend, now.

She looked over to the boy on the other side of the classroom.

The light that came in through the big window illuminated James from the back. He looked angelic, his dark hair like a halo around his head. As if he was the one emitting the light, instead of being cast in it.

They saw each other often, but he still felt distant. She wanted to ask him why they had barely spoken for the past five years. He asked her about the homework instead.

_I’ll fix it_ , Cordelia thought. Not because she wanted to date him, or because he was a way to easily get more friends, or because of any other thing he could offer her. She didn’t want anything from him, besides his company. The only thing he could offer her that she cared about was to make memories like he had promised when they were first reunited. 

A part of her was afraid something was broken between them that wouldn’t be fixed. Like a faulty cog in an ancient watch that had done too much damage to the rest of the clockwork for it ever to be repaired.

But a different, stronger part of her refused to give up on their friendship this easily. _I’ll fix it._ She would.

* * *

 **Cordelia (5:44PM):** hii this is cordelia, i hope this number is still correct lol

 **Cordelia (5:44PM):** i was thinking, if you are free this weekend, we could hang out maybe?

 **Cordelia (5:45PM):** if you want to, i mean

 **James (5:53PM):** Of course!

 **James (5:54PM):** My parents have been asking about you so much lol   
**James (5:54PM):** You should come over

 **Cordelia (5:54PM):** yeah!! sounds like fun :)

 **James (5:55PM):** Is Sunday ok?

 **James (5:55PM):** Lucie won’t be home then though she’s got that school project thing

 **Cordelia (5:58PM):** depends on whether you think you're able to handle me all by yourself

 **James (5:59PM):** Lol i think i can

 **Cordelia (5:59PM):** i’ll see you sunday, then!   
**James (6:00PM):** Can’t wait

“What are you smiling so much about?” Alastair asked, one eyebrow raised. 

“None of your business,” she said. “Also, we’re going to a party next weekend so you can get to know people at our school.” 

“I’m not going to any party,” Alastair said, visibly annoyed, “And especially not with you. I don’t _want_ to get to know people.” 

“Too bad, you’re going.” Cordelia crossed her arms. “I’ll tie you up and throw you in the back of my car if I must.”

“Cordelia, you can’t even _drive_ ,” Alastair said, exasperated. 

“Exactly,” she said. “So I’d go willingly, if I were you.” 

Alastair threw up his hands in irritation. Cordelia simply smiled.

* * *

“ _CORDELIA CARSTAIRS_ ,” a loud voice greeted her as soon as she set a single step into James and Lucie’s home. Will Herondale looked almost exactly how she remembered him. Broad shoulders, piercing blue eyes and a kind expression on his face. 

His dark hair now had streaks of grey in it, though, and little crow’s feet had started to form next to his eyes. It didn’t take away from his handsomeness, though. It only added to it.

“Don’t yell at her, Will, you’ll scare her away.” 

Tessa, Will’s wife and James and Lucies mother, had appeared at his side. “Cordelia, it’s so good to see you. It’s been too long. Last time we saw you, you were no taller than this.” Tessa held up her hand to indicate 11-year-old Cordelia’s height.

“I’m hardly scaring her, Tessa dear, I'm simply giving her an enthusiastic welcome. Any moment a Carstairs sets foot in our home is a moment to celebrate.”

Jem Carstairs, Cordelia’s cousin, had been incredibly close to Will and Tessa. 

He had battled serious illness his whole life, and eventually succumbed to it. It had always been glaringly obvious to everyone around them they were more than just close friends, the three of them. Jem had been a part of their soul as much as they were to each other. If Tessa and Will didn’t have each other to pull through the grief, they would have never gotten through it, her mother had told Cordelia.

But they had found strength in each other, and built a life together, the way Jem would have wanted them to. His memory vividly in both of them, and they had named their first child after him. Her James.

“It’s always a pleasure to see you, Mr. Herondale and Mrs. Gray,” Cordelia said. They had been there to welcome them home, but Cordelia hadn’t talked to them much yet. 

The past month had been incredibly busy. They were still settling in, and on top of that, Cordelia was learning to navigate a new school and catching up with work where needed. She had missed a tonne of exams, and had to figure out how to catch up with three years’ worth of them in three months. 

Lucie had come over twice, mostly because she didn’t particularly care if Cordelia said she was too busy.

“No need to be formal, Cordelia, just call us Will and Tessa,” Tessa said. 

“Exactly,” Will said, and slapped a hand on her shoulder. “Now, would you like some tea? Some cake, perhaps?” 

Cordelia smiled. “I’ve spent enough time in France to know the answer to that question.”

James and Cordelia ended up sprawled across James’ floor. There was plenty of space to sit on actual furniture, but they had always preferred it like this. Her childhood had lived within these walls. She had felt the comfort of a familiar place as soon as she entered the room. For a moment, she didn’t worry about the outside world anymore. The whole world consisted of her, James, and the inside of this room.

It was tidy, tidier than it used to me. No more toys scattered around. She was fairly sure he had organised his bookshelf in alphabetical order.

“Why do you have a book on… Anti-gravity?”

James sighed. “I once was in a reading slump, so I asked my dad for a suggestion. He got me this, and told me, quote-unquote, that it was something I _wouldn’t be able to put down._ I’m fairly sure just hearing that took five years off my lifespan.” 

Cordelia tried to laugh, and promptly choked on the cake she was eating. 

“Oh dear,” James said, alarmed by her intense coughing. “Drink some tea. Here.” He handed her her cup and patted her on the back. 

Once she had stopped choking, he asked her, “Are you alright?” and Cordelia couldn’t help but notice how his hand had lingered.

“I think so,” she said. 

“Good,” James said.

A silence fell. He was still close to her.

“I, uh, I don’t think your dad would ever get over accidentally killing me with his bad jokes.”

“Ha, yeah.” James drew back his hand. He seemingly had forgotten he had left it there. “He missed you more than he would like to admit, I think.” 

_Just him?_ Cordelia thought, but what she said instead was, “It’s good I’m back, then.”

“Yeah,” James said. “It is, Daisy.” 

_Daisy_. James had given her that nickname when they were little. “I haven’t heard that name in so long,” Cordelia said.

“If you don’t want me to call you that, just tell me. It just suits you, I think.” 

“No,” she said. “I like it.”

They had been kids, and James had told her she was just as pretty as the field full of daisies they had run into. They had run around it until they were too tired to walk, and then plopped down and made daisy chains. When she cried because she had broken hers, James had sat with her and made her a new one. 

It was a long time ago, when she was still allowed to run and scream and cry when things didn’t go her way. Cordelia wondered when she had become so still and quiet. One day, she must have stopped and chosen sophistication over freedom without ever realising it.

Time may have changed her, but the nickname had stuck. It was mostly James’ thing, but Lucie had always insisted that she picked out to play as Daisy whenever they played Mario Party on their Nintendo DS, and they had bought her a necklace with a daisy charm on it when she left.

“Do you still wear it?” James asked, as if he had been sharing her thoughts. “The necklace we gave you, I mean.” 

Cordelia pulled it out from her under her shirt, and gave him a small smile. “Every day,” she said.

James gently took the worn out pendant into his slim fingers. The paint had faded, exposing the metal below it almost entirely. 

“It sure is well-loved,” he said, and looked up at her through his long, dark lashes. “Perhaps we should get you a new one sometime soon.”

He gently laid down the necklace on her chest. The brush of his fingertips against her skin sent a shiver down her spine. He didn’t move away from her, in fact, he was so close she could still feel his breath.

She opened her mouth to say something, but words had left her.

“Cordelia…” He said, and then hesitated. 

“Yes?” her voice came out more quiet than she had intended.

James turned away from her. “Nevermind. It’s nothing.” 

Whatever thoughts had gone through James’ head, they were gone now. he moved away from her. It was as if, for a short while, the James sitting in front of her was the James she remembered. Not the one she didn’t know how to talk to comfortably anymore, the one she felt slightly nervous around, but the one who had kissed her bruises and attended all of her birthday parties and played hide-and-seek with her in his garden.

But he was gone now, and he was once more untouchable, just out of her reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO quick update this time! a little ~treat~ to start off the story :)
> 
> first off: i am literally SO sorry for killing off jem i feel SO BAD he is literally my favourite tsc character but i didnt know where to put him because a) i refuse to write will, tessa, or jem without herongraystairs, so i didn’t have it in me to just make him some ~handsome family friend~, and b) i refuse to write tessa & jem without kit and mina, who i really didn’t have any room for!! i’m sorry!!! goodnight sweet (clockwork) prince your memory lives on in our hearts<3
> 
> and yes, i rewrote tessa to keep her own last name after marrying will, because this is the 21st century and my mother would kill me if she found out i made a fictional woman take her husband’s last name.
> 
> please leave some kudos and a comment if you enjoyed, they’re truly what keep me going. i love hearing your opinions :) thank you for reading!!
> 
> xx victoria 
> 
> ps: i meant everything i wrote about twilight <3


	3. masquerade revelers

“I’m still not sure why I’m here. Cordelia, do you even  _ know _ Anna?” Alastair sounded annoyed and slightly out of breath.

Matthew had been the one to take Cordelia and a very disgruntled Alastair to Anna’s party. It was late at night already, and now they were walking up the stairs towards an apartment in a part of town she had never been to.

“Well, I know  _ of _ Anna,” Cordelia hesitated.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get on with Anna just fine,” Matthew said. “Everyone gets on with them.” 

“What do you mean, them? Who else?” Cordelia caught on before Matthew could answer. “Oh,” she said, “is Anna nonbinary?”

Matthew seemed pleased at her knowledge. “Very much correct, Cordelia. You might be the first person I didn’t have to give a lengthy explanation to.”

Alastair looked pleasantly surprised, as if he hadn’t expected Matthew to ever say anything like that. Alastair had come out to her as gay several years ago, but he had never talked about his feelings or his relatonship with his sexuality much. She didn’t think it meant he was uncomfortable with it, though. Alastair was simply a somewhat private person.

They had arrived at Anna’s front door. Anna and her girlfriend had one month left until their final A-level exams, and they were desperate to host one good party until they had to leave everyone behind to go to university.

“Why doesn’t Anna live with their family?” Cordelia asked. Anna was Christopher’s older sibling, like he’d told her, and as far as she knew he did live with their parents.

Matthew shrugged. “I suppose they just wanted to move out.”

“I don’t understand,” Cordelia said, “Why move out if you’re going to stay in the same town anyway? Wouldn’t it be the same, except more expensive?”

A tall and lean figure stood in the door that had opened as she spoke her last sentence. 

“It is, yes, except here I live with my girlfriend instead of my parents. Don’t get me wrong, they’re great, but I like my independence.” 

Cordelia didn’t have to ask, she immediately knew the person standing in front of her was Anna Lightwood. The resemblance to Will was striking. They had the same sharp features and effortless handsomeness, but where Will emitted an aura of warmth, Anna just seemed intimidatingly cool.

“I’m Anna Lightwood. You must be Cordelia and Alastair. Nice to meet you.” 

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you.” Cordelia said. Alastair hummed something of a greeting, too. 

“I’m starting to feel like everyone in this town has heard Lucie talk about us,” Cordelia nervously chuckled. “Nothing bad, I hope.”

“Nah, James and Lucie have done nothing but praise you,” Anna said. “Now, please do come in.”

Inside was a bustling crowd of people. She spotted several people she had seen at school, but many unfamiliar faces, too. Cordelia wondered how Anna even knew this many people. She turned to ask Matthew, but he was already talking to someone she had certainly never seen before in her life. Determined to have a good night, she looked around, in search of someone else she could talk to.

“Oh, I see Lucie! Alastair, please try to at least have fun. If you want to go, that’s fine, but just let me know. Don’t just disappear."

Alastair still seemed somewhat fazed by the sudden amount of noise and people around him. “No,” Alastair said, “I think I’ll stay.”

* * *

Lucie was talking to a girl with long, dark hair and brown skin.

“Cordelia!” Lucie exclaimed. “Hi! Ariadne, this is Cordelia, Cordelia, this is Ariadne, Anna's girlfriend.” 

“Hi,” Cordelia said, “It’s nice to meet you.” Cordelia didn’t question for a moment that she was, indeed, Anna’s girlfriend. They both had that same air of enviable nonchalance, as if they completely had their lives together at age eighteen.

“Nice to meet you too! I love your tee. Is that real vintage?” Cordelia almost wanted to laugh at the compliment. Her tee and cardigan made her look entirely boring in comparison to Ariadne, who was having a whole black-lip-sequin-dress moment Cordelia could never be confident enough to even consider as an outfit.

But she didn’t want to come off insecure, especially not around someone she just met, so instead she said: “Yes, actually! I got it in this store in Cape Town.”

Ariadne's eyebrows shot up. “Cape Town. Wow. Do you travel a lot?” 

Cordelia laughed. “Oh, you have  _ no _ idea.” 

They chatted for a bit, until a girl with blonde hair whisked Ariadne away because she “desperately needed to share crucial information” ( _ Her name is Jessamine _ , Lucie had explained,  _ and somehow she always has gossip about everyone. I’m fairly sure she either has supersonic hearing or is just installing spyware in people’s homes when they aren’t looking. _ )

The party went on, and Cordelia had eventually ended up in a corner of the room, alone, unsure of what to do with herself. Lucie was excitedly chatting to Anna (who Cordelia still deemed too intimidating to approach), and everyone else she knew was nowhere to be found. 

She must have looked quite hopeless, because Matthew noticed her the minute he stepped out of the kitchen, waved, and immediately started making his way over to her.

“Matthew,” she said, as soon as he was within earshot. “Hi.” 

Cordelia knew Matthew a bit better than the others. They were nowhere as close as her and Lucie, or even her and James, but she enjoyed being around him. He would chat to her in between classes (or sometimes during class, which their teachers weren’t exactly happy about) and always made sure she felt welcome and comfortable. In the month and a half she had known him, they had created something of a friendship.

“Hi,” he said, voice loud over the sound of chatter and music. “You look a little lost.” 

“I am,” Cordelia confessed. “I came here to get to know people better, but now I’m afraid to talk to people because I don’t know them. It’s like a vicious circle of social incompetence.”

Matthew chuckled. “Well, trust me, I’m about the least intimidating person around here. I’ll get on with just about anyone.” 

“All the more horrifying if you don’t like me,” Cordelia said.

“Fear not. So far, everything I’ve learned about you has made me like you more.”

Matthew’s sudden compliments always made her somewhat flustered, unsure of how to reply. This always seemed to amuse Matthew more, so she tried to change the subject in an attempt to save herself from further embarrassment. 

“You seem to know Anna well. I thought you weren’t related, and they’re two years older than us. How did you end up getting so close?”

“We aren’t related, no, but… I don’t know. I’ve always looked up to Anna, and they were there for me when I started to tell people I’m bisexual.”

Cordelia’s face must have revealed her surprise, because Matthew looked confused, and said, “Cordelia, you have known this since you met me.”

“What?” she said. “No, I haven’t. How could I have known?” 

“...Yes, you have,” Matthew said. ”Since about two minutes after we first met. The conversation we had, in front of your house?” 

Cordelia just stared at him.

“About kissing Thomas?”

Realisation hit her. It was the conversation she didn’t understand, during which she had instead chosen to stare at James instead. 

“Wait, sorry, I remember now, when that happened I was-- I mean-- It was-- _you kissed_ _Thomas_?” 

Matthew waved his hand through the air in a dismissive gesture. “We were, like, thirteen, confused about our sexuality, and yes, it  _ may _ have caused a little drama, but it all turned out fine in the end.”

_ Thirteen _ , Cordelia thought. She was sixteen and had never kissed anyone.

“Well… Good for you? I think?” She didn’t quite know what to say.

“Honestly, it felt a bit like kissing my brother, which was gross. But it did help both of us fully realise we would like to kiss boys that aren't, well, the other. So there’s that, at least.”

“What made you question it in the first place?” Cordelia asked. “If you don’t mind me asking.” 

“Hmm.” Matthew took a second to think about that, and stared into his cup. Beer, Cordelia realised. Matthew had been drinking since the moment they arrived.

“I guess I’d always felt different. I just could never quite figure out why.”

He smiled a soft smile. “And then one day, I came across this celebrity. I saw him in this movie, and I was just a  _ little _ too obsessed with him, yknow?” 

He shook his head, like the memory was both embarrassing and sweet to him. “So I looked up interviews on him, right, so I could stare at his face for a bit more, and it turned out he’s bisexual, too. And then it just clicked, I guess. And Thomas, well, I assume you already know.”

Cordelia frowned. “How would I know? I hardly know Thomas, and you know Lucie thinks it’s not her position to share those things with me. I didn’t even know he wasn’t straight until just now.” 

Matthew’s eyebrows shot up as soon as he realised his mistake. “I’m sorry, I just thought-- Forget about what I just said.” 

Cordelia was incredibly confused. She was about to ask Matthew what he had meant, but before she could speak, he did.

“Who’s the girl James is talking to?”

Mentally cursing him for using her one weakness against her, she immediately looked over her shoulder, to the part of the room Matthew’s gaze was focused on. James was, indeed, talking to a girl she didn’t know. It wasn’t surprising she didn’t know her-- She pretty much only knew James and Lucie’s friends-- but Matthew not knowing her was a sign that she was someone who usually isn’t around.

“I don’t know,” Cordelia said. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her around.” 

“Huh,” Matthew said. “Well, I’m going to get another drink. You want anything?” 

Cordelia thanked him. “Alright, your loss,” Matthew said, and disappeared, once again, into the mass of people.

And s Cordelia was left on her own again. She decided she needed a breath of fresh air, and made her way to the door. Anna’s apartment was on the second floor, if she was quick enough, no one would notice she was gone. Actually, she didn’t feel like anyone would notice regardless of how long she was gone.

Cordelia made a mental note of the apartment number (thirteen) and made her way down the hallway, towards the stairs.

“Are you leaving?” Cordelia turned to see James stand behind her in the hallway. He must have followed her out. He hadn’t talked to her all night. She wondered if he had even noticed.

“Just getting some fresh air.” She hadn’t intended for anyone to know she was leaving. He must think she was entirely antisocial. 

“Oh, alright.” James stood completely still for a moment, hesitated, and then said, “Mind if I come with?” 

“Not at all,” Cordelia said, and waited for James to catch up with her.

May was warmer than April had been, but the cold air that hit her when she opened the door to the street still made Cordelia shiver. Music and chatter floated out of an open window overhead, the party clearly audible from the outside of the building.

Cordelia looked around the street. The orange glow from sunset that had been there when she arrived had gone. Bright street lights pierced through the dusk, allowing her to see the golden pair of eyes that had followed her out. 

“It’s a nice street, isn’t it?” he stood beside her, dark hair almost blending into the twilight. “Anna and Ariadne actually know quite a lot about the architecture. You should ask them, if you’re curious.” 

“But no garden,” she said. “I don’t think I’d ever want to live anywhere without a garden.” 

“A very reasonable requirement,” James said. He leaned against the building, back to the brick wall. “Were you not enjoying the party?” 

Cordelia went to stand beside him. “I guess... Parties just aren’t exactly my thing,”

“No?”

She sighed. “It’s just… I missed out on so many things. And now it’s like I don’t know how to be a normal teenager. I don’t know what to say at what time, or what to do with my hands, or how to even come off like an actual person and not a complete alien.” She felt herself choke up. “I want people to like me so, so bad that it’s embarrassing. But I-- I just,” She tried to collect herself, to no avail. “I don’t know how.” 

“Hey, hey, Daisy.” James turned to face her. 

“I’m sorry,” she said, “I didn’t mean to get all sad.” 

He put a reassuring hand on her arm. ”Don’t apologise. Talk to me.” 

She sighed. “I spent all this time abroad, and I know I shouldn’t complain about it. Most people would kill to have even half of the experiences I’ve had. But I feel like I’ve missed out on so much. I’ve never dated anyone, never had a crazy night with friends, never did any of those things. 

And it didn’t bother me for so long, but then one day I woke up, and I was sixteen, and it just hit me. Everything I had missed. I’d always had more experiences than people my age, and then all of a sudden I was behind.” She stared to the ground. She couldn’t look him in the eye.

James took a moment to consider her words. “But you’re  _ only _ sixteen, Cordelia. And you’re not alone in this. There’s so many people out there who haven’t done any of those things either, for various different reasons. I think you’re comparing yourself to an unrealistic standard, especially for someone who’d had a life like yours. You’ll figure it out. You’ve got so much time.”

“I know that, but…” She bit the inside of her cheek. “It’s like I know it in my head, not in my heart. I don’t know how to look at myself, or the world, differently. I want it so bad, to fit in the ideal life I’ve created in my head. But I don’t even like parties.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I don’t really like parties either.” 

She looked up at him. “You don’t?” 

“No.” He smiled a self-conscious smile. “I hate the crowds.”

“And yet you go?” The light created deep shadows on his face, accentuating his sharp features. It didn’t take away from his friendliness, though. His face still looked kind.   
“The crowds are usually made up of my friends, which makes it alright. I suppose the advantages outweigh the disadvantages to me.”

“I feel that. I love dancing. Sometimes I’d buy tickets to a concert just to dance with other people instead of on my own.” She smiled fondly at the memory. “But the sweatiness and loudness… I would never make a habit out of it. It’s all a bit much for me. But I wished I could dance like that more often. No choreographies, no pressure, just… People dancing.”

James looked up to the open window. The music still echoed through the street. A nostalgic love song was playing. “Dance with me, then.”

“What?”

“You don’t have to, if you don’t want to,” he said, “but there’s music. And it’s just me.” 

She narrowed her eyes, attempting to hide the smile that immediately came up. “Are you drunk right now?”

James laughed. “Hardly tipsy, Daisy.” 

He stuck out his hand to her. An invitation. “C’mon. Just me.” 

She apprehensively took his hand, and he clumsily twisted her around. It was quite clear James wasn’t entirely sure what to do with himself either, but if he cared, he didn’t show it. He moved with her, occasionally taking her hand to swing her around with him. He was laughing, sheer joy taking over his body. It radiated from him. She felt it too.

Every attempt to make her movements somewhat rhythmic failed. The faint beat of the music was drowned out by the sound of her own heart drumming in her ears. She could feel his hand on her body, a steadiness that would leave as soon as it appeared, letting her go to twirl on her own. 

She dared place her own hands on his shoulders, a gesture that felt too intimate and too meaningless at the same time. He was smiling ear to ear, but something relaxed in him as he looked at her. His hands found their place on her waist, and she stepped closer to him. She could feel the heat of his body under her fingertips, and she wondered if it was him who was lighting up the street instead, incandescent in the dark. 

She looked up at him, and she wanted to pull him in, and maybe she would have, if it were not for the slamming of the door behind them.

Startled by the loud noise, she jumped back, taking her hands off him faster than lightning. She looked at the figure that had come storming down the stairs, and realised it was none other than her brother. 

Alastair hadn’t seen them, and if he had, he had not paid any attention to them. He was walking into the night, hands in his pockets, 

“Alastair, wait! James, I-”

“Go after him,” he said. 

She went to run, but after only taking a few steps, she felt someone take her arm. 

She turned around and realised James had gone after her. “Cordelia, wait. I like you.” 

Cordelia felt her face heat up. “What?”

“You said you felt like people didn’t like you. But I do. I do like you.”

“Oh,” she said, unsure of what to reply, how to even begin.

James pulled her into a quick hug. “Go now. Be safe.” 

He let her go, and she stood there for a second, dazed, and then turned to chase after her brother into the night.

* * *

“Alastair, talk to me.” She had followed him home where he was now avoiding her gaze. 

“Home so soon?” Cordelia’s mother stood in the hallway. Alastair took Cordelia’s distraction as an opportunity to flee the situation. “Yes,” he said, and started making his way up the stairs. “Goodnight.” 

Sona frowned, and turned to Cordelia. “Did you two have fun?” 

Cordelia didn’t want to make it glaringly obvious something was off-- if there was something Alastair didn’t want to talk about with her, he would like to talk about it even less with their parents-- so she simply told her that yes, they had fun, but that they were both very tired and on their way to bed, now.

As soon as her mother had disappeared back into the living room, Cordelia ran up the stairs, on her way to Alastair. She found him in his room. She had run fast enough that he wasn’t far ahead of her.

“What’s going on? Why did you leave like that?” Cordelia stood in his doorway. 

“Cordelia, move out of the way. I need to brush my teeth,” His voice was harsh.

Cordelia refused to budge. “Not until you tell me what’s going on,” she said, defiantly. 

“I’m not talking to you. Move.”

Reluctantly, Cordelia moved out of the way, but followed Alastair, who was still attempting to ignore her. 

“Whatever it is, let me help you. Please.” Alastair was quiet. “If you’re not going to tell me as your sister, tell me as your friend.”

He seemed to consider that for a moment, leaning on the sink. There was noticeable tension in his shoulders.

“It’s just…” He began, searching for words. “Complicated.” His tone was less angry than before. Alastair hid behind his anger more often, a shield to deflect anyone trying to come close.

“Complicated, how?” Cordelia asked.

He shook his head. “You wouldn’t understand. You don’t know.”

His choice of words reminded her of what Matthew had let slip.The sudden realisation made her say the words out loud, when she didn’t quite mean to.

“Is this about Thomas?” 

Alastair froze for a second. He then turned towards her, his jaw clenched. “You know nothing about Thomas.” 

He shut the door in her face. She stumbled backwards onto the landing, into the dark.

* * *

On Monday, James had asked her if everything had been alright, whispered in the back of English class. She explained that Alastair had been angry, but she didn’t share any of the details of the conversation with him. She knew James probably knew the other side of the story, but it felt wrong to go behind Alastair’s back. She was confident he would tell her once he was ready.

The only thing she knew was that it was, in fact, about Thomas. Something had happened between Alastair and him that Alastair had never told her about, that he still didn’t want to talk about. She decided to leave it for now. Speculation would get her nowhere.

She walked through the school hallways, James at her side. He knew which routes to take to avoid being crammed into one corridor with forty other students, which she was grateful for. Mondays were bad enough as they were. Having a stranger breathe down your neck didn’t make it any better.

They arrived at their next classroom when she spotted the girl James had been talking to.

“There’s that girl you were talking to,” Cordelia said. “The blonde one, from the party. Over there.” She nodded to indicate a direction.

James looked in her direction. Her hair was such a pale blonde that Cordelia wondered if she had dyed it. “Yeah, that’s her.”

“Do you know her well?” She asked. “Matthew saw her talk to you at the party, but he said he’d never seen her before. I guess I was just curious, since you two are basically a package deal.”

James shrugged. “Not really. She’s just this girl from Thomas’ year, though I don’t think they know one another. She seems nice.”

“What’s her name?” 

“Grace,” James said. “Grace Cartwright.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> important meta notes, before we start off: neither grace nor jesse are related to the lightwoods, nor are they also aren’t related to each other: jesse is a blackthorn, grace was never adopted and is therefore a cartwright. hope that clears up any possible confusion!
> 
> one of the advantages of writing fic is that i’m able to fix something that has always bothered me a bit in canon-- travelling as much as cordelia does, it never made much sense to me that she’s quite the social butterfly, especially since she admits to not having much friends as a child!   
> of course, she’s naturally quite sociable and confident (moreso than alastair, my grumpy king), but i think she’s allowed to have a bit of a learning curve when it comes to navigating personal relationships :) i’ve got some things in store for her !
> 
> hope you enjoyed, and again, thank you for every kudo and comment! reading your opinion is honestly what keeps me going, even if it’s just a few words :)
> 
> ps dont drink underage kids! your brain is too important for that!!!! DONT!!! also beer is gross so its honestly not even worth it ew


	4. the greatest films of all time...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's a small surprise at the end of this chapter :) read to find out!

_Lucie added you, James and [UNKNOWN NUMBER] to a group._

**Lucie (4:43PM):** girl help james just called twilight dumb again

 **Lucie (4:43PM):** help girl we don’t have any choice but to have a movie night

 **James (4:43PM):** Lucie, you just told me the vampires play baseball

 **James (4:43PM):** What was I supposed to do

 **Lucie (4:44PM):** see if youd seen the baseball scene you would think differently

 **[UNKNOWN NUMBER] (~Matthew) (1:44PM):** I cannot believe you insulted the baseball scene… we are watching it TONIGHT

 **James (4:45PM):** It is wednesday and I have to study

 **[UNKNOWN NUMBER] (~Matthew) (4:45PM):** wow! not my problem

 **Cordelia (4:47PM):** omg i was so confused about who was spamming me this much

 **Cordelia (4:47PM):** sounds fun!! i’m definitely in :)

 **Lucie (4:54PM):** alright 7:30 our place b there or b square

* * *

Cordelia met up with Matthew in front of her house. He had texted her beforehand if they wanted to walk to James and Lucie’s together. It wasn’t a particularly long route, and they both knew the way by heart, but it was a good excuse to spend some more time together.

They chatted about small things-- schoolwork, a show they had both recently watched-- without a single moment of silence. Matthew didn’t seem to have it in him to make any conversation dull.

Eventually, they reached the house they were looking for. 

Matthew pressed the bell, and James opened the door. “Are you aware we are in the middle of our final GCSE season?”

Matthew smiled brightly at him. “Good to see you too, Jamie!” he said, and patted his shoulder when he moved past him to go inside.

Cordelia chuckled. “Hi,” she said.

“Good to see you, Cordelia.” James stepped back to let her in. “Here, let me take your coat.”

It was sort of a ridiculous gesture, since Cordelia had hung up her coat on this exact coat rack a million times, but she handed it to him nonetheless. “Thanks,” she said, and they made their way into the living room, where Lucie was slamming a DVD player. There was an unreasonably large bowl of popcorn standing on a table.

“Luce, you’ll break it.” James said, but didn’t make any attempts to stop her. Lucie sighed an exaggerated sigh. “I can’t get it to work. I haven’t used this thing in like, five years.” 

“Let me try,”’ Cordelia said, and sat down next to Lucie. She moved anything that was loose and pressed a few random buttons. Sure enough, the player started to buzz, and images flashed up on the screen.

Lucie looked at her in full amazement. “Cordelia, you’re a genius.” Cordelia chuckled. “Hardly.” 

Matthew had been watching the whole ordeal with pure amusement “Don’t sell yourself short, Cordelia. You’re no doubt the smartest of the bunch here.” he then stage-whispered to her, “Don’t tell James I said that, though.”

James’ voice rang from the kitchen, where he presumably went to get them drinks. “I heard that!” 

The movie was a lot less romantic than Cordelia remembered it to be. She hadn’t watched it in well over five years, and certain details didn’t exactly hold up. 

“I’m fairly sure Edward should go to jail for stalking, breaking and entering, speeding, and several other crimes,” James commented when he spotted Edward nearly driving his car into a group of men. “Also, this is full of plot holes. How did he even know she was there?”

“Stalking, remember,’ Lucie said as she shoved a handful of popcorn into her mouth.

James pulled a face. “Yeah, he should definitely be in jail.” 

“Perhaps,” said Matthew, “But please consider the following: he is extremely hot, and therefore excused from all his delinquencies.”

“Guess this town is a lawless land, then,” murmured Cordelia. She thought it was too low for anyone to hear, but Matthew caught her eye and winked. She let out a little laugh, and James looked at her, but didn’t comment.

Eventually, after many reasonable questions from James and much laughter at things that certainly weren’t intended to be funny, the end credits rolled on the screen.

“That was… Different from how I remembered it,” Cordelia said. “But a comedic masterpiece at the very least.” 

“A true woman of culture,” Matthew proclaimed. “Too bad the same thing can’t be said for dear Jamie.” 

“Sorry,’ James said. ‘If there’s any hidden depths to this movie, I must have completely missed them. I think it’s because I was too busy trying to process the bit where he called her his ‘spider-monkey’.”

Lucie sighed. “Guess we’ll just have to watch it again, then. Sounds like you didn’t even notice Emmett’s bag of boiled eggs.” 

James let out an incredibly distressed-sounding laugh. “His _what_? Also, no.” He looked out the window, into their garden. “I think I’ve got a better idea.” 

* * *

“Your hair is the exact same shade as the bricks,” Matthew said. “I have to ask, did you dye it?”

James was trying to light a fire pit in the garden. He had sent Lucie to go find marshmallows and sticks so they could roast them over the fire. Early June wasn’t exactly warm, but it wasn’t terribly cold either. The fire would be enough to keep them from freezing, James had reassured them.

“No,” Cordelia said. “A lot of people think I have, but it’s all natural. I got it from my mother’s side of the family.” 

“Really? Does your mother yourself have red hair, too?” Matthew frowned. “I never noticed.”

“Hopefully not, because she wears a hijab, Matthew,” James said, from where he was still trying to light the fire.

“Oh! Right. That does make sense.” Matthew now seemed to remember what Sona looked like. Her mother, being born in Iran, had been raised Muslim. She never passed on her faith to her children, but taught them about it nonetheless. Both of her parents had always felt like it was incredibly important that their children knew about both of their parents’ culture, not just her father’s convenient British one.

“It’s alright, Matthew,” Cordelia chuckled. “You should properly meet her some day. I think you’ll like her.”

Matthew grinned. “You’re asking me to meet the parents already? How forward, Cordelia.” Cordelia wiggled her eyebrows at him, which made Matthew chuckle.

“Don’t make her uncomfortable, Matthew,” James said. He’d gotten the fire alight. Sharp shadows were cast against the walls, flickering because of the flames. Cordelia could smell the smoke that came from the burning wood.

She wanted to tell James that it was really no big deal, when Lucie emerged from the door, speaking before she could.

“The good news is we have enough marshmallows to feed an entire army, the bad news is that I’ve seen Matthew eat a bag like this by himself in the span of an hour. So, be quick, everyone.”

Matthew didn’t seem insulted in the slightest. “In my defence, that was after I went through a dreadful breakup, and I really needed to emotionally recover.” he reconsidered his words. “But then again, I’m always in need of mental recovery, so I guess you still need to be fast.”

They stayed by the fire, which slowly became their only source of heat as the night took over. Cordelia accidentally lit her marshmallow on fire several times, to which Matthew gave her his, perfectly roasted. Lucie lit her marshmallows on fire for fun.

The sun completely went down eventually, and the temperature dropped with it. James had been wrong: despite the fire, Cordelia shivered in the cold wind.  
“Are you cold?” Matthew asked. “Here, take my jacket. I’ll be fine.” 

“Actually,” James said, before Matthew even had removed a single arm, “Maybe we should just go inside. I think we’re all cold.”

Matthew looked at James with slight confusion, but said nothing.

“Maybe I should just go home,” Cordelia said. “It’s late already, and we have school tomorrow.”

“That’s probably a good idea,” Matthew agreed. “I don’t think I can afford to snore in history class again.”

All of them except Lucie went inside, who went to clean a few things up outside. Once inside, Matthew went to the bathroom, leaving Cordelia alone with James.

Cordelia looked at the stack of DVDs Lucie had dug through to find the right one. She remembered a lot of them. They had spent many days curled up on the couch with hot chocolate, watching movies together. “Peter Pan,” she said. James turned. “Hm?” 

“I’m just looking through the DVDs. We used to watch Peter Pan so often. I just loved the idea of Neverland so much.”

James smiled fondly. “I remember. You always said you wanted to join the mermaids. I read the book a few summers ago.”

“Is it any good?” Cordelia asked.

James frowned. “Certainly a product of its time. But you might like the bit of nostalgia. If you want to, you can borrow it.” 

Cordelia smiled. “I’d like that.” 

“Cordelia, you coming?” Matthew emerged from the bathroom. “On my way,” she said. 

Cordelia put on her coat, which Matthew had already handed to her. They said goodbye to James and Lucie, and Tessa and Will (who somehow had overheard they were leaving despite being upstairs) and made their way home.

“James and Lucie have such a great relationship,” Cordelia sighed. “I wish me and my brother were like that, honestly. We get on, but James and Lucie are _friends_.” 

“I feel that,” Matthew said. “I’ve always gotten the impression they would have been friends even if they weren’t related. Same goes for all their cousins. Me and my brother are nothing like that.” 

Cordelia was fairly sure she had never heard Matthew ever mention his family before, much less talk about them in detail. “I didn’t know you had a brother.” 

Matthew nodded. “His name is Charles. He’s currently studying international law at Cambridge.”

“You don’t get on well?” It was hard to imagine anyone disliking Matthew. He had a certain charisma and confidence in him that gave him a certain undeniable charm. He never second-guessed his words or didn’t know what to say, and got on with virtually everyone with complete ease like some sort of social chameleon. 

Even Cordelia felt it: while she could feel awkward and out of place with James, someone she had known for years by now, Matthew had not once made her feel unwanted in the slightest. People gravitated to James, too, but Matthew spun them around him like planets around the sun.

“I wouldn’t say we don’t get along. We’re just very different, is all.” Cordelia wondered what an antithesis to Matthew could possibly look like. “In all honesty, I prefer my dog.” 

Cordelia gasped. “You have a dog? What kind?” 

Matthew seemed amused at her amazement. “Yep. His name is Mr. Oscar Wilde. He’s a golden retriever. You can meet him, if you want.”

“Oscar Wilde, like the author?” Cordelia didn’t take Matthew for a big classic literature fan. “And yes. I would love that. Right now please. Where is he?”

Matthew laughed. “Yes, like the author. Jamie helped me name him. You can join us on a walk tomorrow, if you want. I was thinking of taking him to the forest outside town.”

The whole time she’d been back in town, Cordelia still hadn’t visited the forest yet. “I’d like that.”

“It’s a date,” Matthew said, and winked.

They chatted all the way until her front door, at which point Matthew said goodnight to her with a dramatic bow. At home, she could still smell the smoke from the fire on her clothes.

* * *

**Matthew (4:32PM):** it is time.

 **Cordelia (4:32PM):**!!!!!!

 **Cordelia (4:32PM):** where should we meet?

 **Matthew (4:32PM):** look out the window lol

 **Cordelia (4:32PM):** ON MY WAY

* * *

The moment Cordelia had looked out the window, Matthew had been standing there with an overexcited golden retriever that was happily wagging his tail. She’d immediately gotten up to run outside, only stopping to put on her shoes and coat. 

“Where are you going, Layla?” her mother had asked her, and she had explained to her that she would be going for a short walk with Matthew and his dog. “ _Ohhh_ ,” Sona said, with a smug smile. “Well, you two have fun.” Cordelia didn’t even know how to reply to that. She simply went outside.

Oscar immediately came running towards her, wagging his tail, his blond hair bouncing around. “Oscar, no!” Matthew shouted, but it was too late. Oscar was already excitedly jumping up against Cordelia, who felt like she didn't have enough hands to pet him. 

“Oscar, down. Sorry. I should have leashed him,” Matthew said, as he clicked the leash onto Oscar’s collar.

“It’s fine. I’m glad he likes me,” Cordelia said. Oscar was still happily wagging his tail, trying to get as much of Cordelia’s attention as he could.

Matthew scratched the dog behind his ear. “I thought he would. Oscar likes anyone I like.”

“I’ve never been more honoured to be ambushed by a gigantic dog, then,” she said, and smiled.

They walked towards the forest together. Matthew complained about studying, Cordelia shared some of her frustrations with her brother. “Nothing like bonding over life’s tortures,” Matthew had said. They hadn’t ever gotten many opportunities to talk properly, and even then their conversations were usually cut short. It was nice to finally get to know Matthew on a slightly deeper level.

They unleashed Oscar in the forest, where he immediately took a sprint through some grass. Still, he stayed close to Matthew, loyal as ever.

“It’s been so long since I last saw this place. I used to go here all the time with James and Lucie, but now I barely recognise it.” Cordelia looked around. Light shone through the foliage onto the moss that grew on tree roots. There was a small trail in between the trees. “My parents always told me to keep an eye on the path, and not stray too deep into the woods. They were terrified I’d get lost. I can still hear my mother’s voice every time I walk in the woods: _Layla, mind the path, I’m begging you!_ ”

Matthew carefully stepped over some tree roots. “Rightfully so. I wouldn’t want to risk losing you to the monstrous woods either, if I were them.” Again, Matthew smiled at her with enviable ease. “Why does your mum call you Layla?” 

“Oh,” Cordelia smiled. “There’s this story, Layla and Majnun, which I’ve loved since I was a child. It’s one of my mum’s favourites, too, so I think we’ve both read it about a million times,” she explained. “It’s ancient Arabic folklore. But the version I love most is a poem by Nizami Ganjavi, written in the 12th century.”

“Oh, wow,” Matthew said. “When I was a kid I just watched iCarly, written in the 21st century.”

Cordelia laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ve watched plenty of Nickelodeon in my time, too. My mum just cared a lot about me and Alastair not losing the connection to our heritage. I’m grateful for it.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” Matthew said. “It must be strange to have lived in so many countries with so many different cultures, but none of them really being your own. The place you grow up affects the person you end up being so much, I can't imagine what it’s like to have that part of you scattered all over the world.” 

It was strange to think she had only known Matthew for less than two months. He seemed to understand her on a deeper level without even trying to, as if he had access to her mind. Cordelia hadn’t met many people who understood her like that before.

“You get it perfectly,” Cordelia said, and then paused. “Hold on, where’s Oscar?” she suddenly noticed the dog’s absence. He had been happily trotting by their side, until suddenly, he wasn’t.

“What?” Matthew frantically looked around him, but Oscar was nowhere to be found. Realisation set in, and Matthew started to look pale.

“It’s alright,” Cordelia reassured him, “We’ll find him.”

“No, it’s not. We need to find him. Now.” Matthew was noticeably shaking. “OSCAR!” Matthew shouted, but no response. “He must have gone into the woods,” he said, and immediately started making his way into the treeline. Cordelia expected some sharp-witted remark about breaking her parents’ rules, but none came. Matthew didn’t seem to have any time to be funny.

They both shouted the dog’s name into the woods a few more times, but to no avail. No rustling of dog paws could be heard. The leaves on the ground stayed quiet.

They walked deeper into the woods. Matthew walked in seemingly random directions, and kept turning and looking around him to find any glimpse of Oscar. After several minutes, there was still no sign of him.

“Shit,” Matthew said. “Shit, shit, _shit_.” Worry started to plague Cordelia, too, but she tried not to let it show. Matthew had his hands in his hair. His breaths were short. 

“Matthew, hey. We’ll find him, okay? We will.” Matthew shook his head. “I should have paid more attention to him, or just kept him on his leash, or--” He covered his eyes with his hand. “Fuck.” 

It became quite clear to her that the only thing that would calm him down was seeing Oscar. Her mind was racing for solutions. He clearly wasn’t responding to his name, and if he had gone back to the path to find Matthew again, they wouldn’t be there. 

“Okay,” she said, “Do you ever give him any sort of treats? Anything he really loves?” 

“Yes, but they’re at home, and I don’t want to go all the way back, because it’ll take too much time,” Matthew said, still looking desperate. "I'm sorry for pulling you into my bullshit like this. I'm sorry. I can't do anything right." 

“Matthew, don't. If I didn't want to help you I would have left already,” Cordelia said, and prayed her idea would work. It was dumb, but it was the only thing she could think of.

She took one of the many empty wrappers she had stuffed in her coat pockets out (she’ll put them in the trash, eventually!) and started crinkling it. “Oscar! Treats!” No response. “Oscar! C’mere! Treats!”

Sure enough, a fluffy blur of blond hair shot out from between the trees, straight to Cordelia’s hand. He sniffed her hand, desperately trying to find treats in the empty plastic. Matthew immediately put his leash back on, and sank to his knees to hug the dog. He didn’t seem to mind his jeans getting dirty.

“Oh my God. Never do that again, you hear me?” Matthew looked up to Cordelia. “You’re an actual genius. I mean it. Thank you.”

“In all honesty, I didn't even think it would work. But I guess it did.” Cordelia also sank to her knees to pet the dog. She looked at Matthew “Are you alright?” She asked. “You were panicking quite a lot.” 

“Yeah, it’s… It’s fine. Don’t worry. I just get like that sometimes, I guess.” He didn’t meet her eyes. Any part of the confident, bold Matthew she knew had completely disappeared, like snow in the sun, melting away to reveal a cracked pavement underneath. 

"It doesn't sound fine," Cordelia said. She didn't want to pry, but she also didn't want to leave Matthew to deal with this by himself. "Does anyone know? That you... Get like this, sometimes?" 

"James and Lucie,” Matthew said. “Well, they usually just notice when I'm off. But it's just… I'd rather not talk about it." 

"Because you're not comfortable with it, or because you don't want to be a burden?"

Matthew was quiet for a moment. "The second," he said, hands still in Oscar's fur. The dog moved closer to Matthew.

Cordelia frowned. "Matthew--" she said, but he cut her off. "I know," he said, cynically. "I need to stop being so dramatic and just get over myself, toughen up, et cetera. I’ve heard it a million times already. Don’t bother.” 

“Actually, that wasn’t what I was going to say at all,” Cordelia sternly told him. “I was going to suggest you talk about it more. It helps to have some sort of support network when it comes to these things. You don’t have to do it all by yourself, Matthew. You can’t.” 

Matthew clearly had not seen such a reaction coming, and Cordelia felt a pang of pity for him. How heavy the weight of such a secret must be. 

“You’re the only person who thinks of it that way,” Matthew replied. “It’s not...” He shook his head. “It’s a nice thought. But not how it works.”

“I sincerely doubt that,” Cordelia said, “but if you really do feel that that’s true, let me be there for you, at least. I promise I’ll never judge you.” 

“Okay,” Matthew said, and got up and dusted off his knees. Oscar still stayed close to him.

“Okay,” Cordelia said.

Slowly, they made their way back into town. Neither of them talked much. They reached Cordelia’s house first, as Matthew’s was further down the road.

“See you at school?” Cordelia said, but Matthew didn’t reply. 

Instead, he pulled her into a hug. “Thank you. For, uh, everything back there.” 

Cordelia wrapped her arms around him tightly. “You don’t need to thank me,” she said. She could smell his shampoo. Honey. “You know I’m here for you, okay?”

He let go of her, but not quite, his hands lingering on her arms. “I know. Thanks.” He smiled at her, but not his usual dashing grin. This was more genuine, less flashy, more modest. Cordelia could tell the boy standing in front of her was the true Matthew, the one that usually lived behind the façade. Seeing him like this pulled the strings in her heart in a certain way. She wondered how many people had been allowed to witness this Matthew. How lucky she was.

“Anytime,” she said, and went inside, where her brother waited for her with a revelation.

* * *

* * *

to close it off, here's a small doodle of cordelia at the very beginning of the chapter :) i can't believe it took me so long to realise that i am, in fact, an artist, and i can therefore just... draw stuff i want to see? CRAZY

get used to the ridiculous amount of texts, daisy, there's going to be a LOT of them in the future!!!

ps don't think this is representative of my art, please, as this took me like 10 minutes. lol. it's just smth small for fun :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay now onto the ACTUAL notes: 
> 
> i'm embarrassed to say that the reason i picked twilight for this was because there are exactly two (2) movies i know by heart, and they are twilight and pride and prejudice (2005). i felt like twilight would be a lot more….. intriguing to discuss, because i just know james would hate it, so that's why there's a weird love for the sparkly vampire story in this fic. and yes, emmett is just straight up carrying a bag of hard boiled eggs in the cafeteria scene. i wish i was making this up.
> 
> also  
> YEAH matthew suffers, as he does in every universe. c'mon now. happiness?? for matthew???? not on MY watch!!! (i'm so sorry math)
> 
> thank you all for reading!!!! and as always, thank you so much for your kudos and comments!!! reading them always gives me a boost of motivation to get off my ass and write, lol. ps don't get used to the art. i'm creative, but not THAT creative. loveu!  
> xoxo vic


	5. lost in a memory

Cordelia pulled the door shut behind her. She took off her coat, kicked off her shoes and made her way to the living room to let her parents know she was home. 

It wasn’t her father who in the living room, though, it was her brother. He was drinking a cup of coffee while scrolling through his phone. 

“Have our parents run off together and left us to fend for ourselves?” Cordelia asked, looking at the empty chair where either of her parents could usually be found reading a book or sorting through emails.

“No,” said Alastair, not bothering to look up from his phone. “They’re just out getting groceries.” He locked his phone with a little  _ click _ , and put it back in his pocket. “Where were you, anyway?”

“I was with Matthew. Fairchild. He lives down the street,” Cordelia answered.

“I  _ know _ who Matthew is,” Alastair said, irritated. He paused, then narrowed his eyes. “Wait, Cordelia,  _ please  _ don’t tell me he’s your boyfriend.”

“I— What?” Cordelia felt her cheeks turn red. “He’s not! Why would you even—” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Alastair said, and counted on his fingers, “You let him take you to parties, you’re constantly hanging out, you let him walk you home from every single place…”

“Because he lives  _ close _ to us!” 

“I live here too, and he’s not holding  _ my  _ hand,” Alastair said. “Or do you think he would, if I asked him to?”

“We do not  _ hold hands _ !” Cordelia exclaimed. “Besides—”  _ Besides, if it had to be anyone, it would be James. _ “Besides, I don’t owe you any details about what’s happening in my life, since you refuse to give me any about yours.”

Alastair sighed. “Is this about Thomas again? Because I told you, that’s none of your business.”

“It wasn’t,” Cordelia crossed her arms. “But if the shoe fits, wear it.” 

“Cordelia, you were absolutely trying to— Forget it. It doesn’t matter.” 

“I think it does,” Cordelia said. “You would have told me already if it didn’t matter.” 

“You point being?” Alastair asked.

“Tell me,” she said, sat down in a chair opposite her brother, and then continued in a gentler voice. “Alastair, I’m genuinely worried about you.” 

Her brother grumbled. 

“I mean it!” Cordelia said. 

Alastair sighed. “As I said, it’s nothing. It happened a long time ago.” 

Cordelia raised her eyebrows.

“You’re not going to back off, are you?” He asked.

On one hand, he was right: it wasn’t her business, and she really shouldn’t pressure him into talking if he didn’t want to. On the other hand, if Alastair truly didn’t want to talk about it, he would have told her to go away already, probably in slightly more colourful language than he was doing now. 

Being around each other so much for so long really did teach you to read someone.

“No,” she said.

* * *

It had been the year before they left. Alastair was 12, barely a year into secondary school. He met Thomas Lightwood there: a scrawny boy, not even half the size he was now. 

They didn’t talk much, at first, despite getting assigned to sit next to each other: Thomas was as naturally quiet as he still could sometimes be today, and Alastair felt far too intimidated by all the new faces to strike up a conversation out of nowhere.

It became evident very soon that being 12 wasn’t very easy. All of a sudden, you were launched into this new, bigger, unfamiliar world, all while trying to figure out who you were and who you were supposed to be. Everyone dealt with their newfound doubts and insecurities differently. Some kids went quiet, like he did, while others simply became cruel enough to come out on top.

They made fun of everyone they thought was even just a little bit odd, and Alastair had the misfortune of being exactly that. He preferred to keep to himself and could snap at anyone who provoked him too much, and on top of that, he looked different than most kids at his tiny British school. It sort of made sense that he instantly became their favourite target.

He tried to make it stop, but nothing he tried worked. It didn’t matter how much he changed himself. They would always find new faults to point out, new reasons to call him names and jeer at him after school. It was merciless. 

He should probably have told someone: his family, or a teacher, or anyone who might have been able to help him. He didn’t want them to pity him, though, or think he was weak, so he kept it to himself. Bite through the pain and try to live from day to day.

But in all honesty, it was far too much to handle all on his own. He dreaded going to school more and more, until even the Friday afternoons that had once been blissful were filled with nothing but dread for Monday.

It was on one of those terrifying Mondays that he finally figured out a way to come out on top. There was nothing that  _ truly _ separated the predators from being the prey: otherwise, his constant efforts to become the person he thought they wanted him to be would have paid off. 

No, it was much simpler than that. The only way to get on their side was to act as if you were.

He felt horrible for it, but it worked: it didn’t matter who the one making the jokes was, as long as his classmates could laugh at the expense of  _ someone _ , they were fine with it. For the first time, they laughed with him, not at him. 

They all fell for it, too. Nobody realised every mean remark made Alastair feel hollow inside, that he was haunted by a constant feeling of guilt. 

Well, nobody except Thomas.

Alastair remembered it so clearly. It was after class on a Wednesday afternoon. He was ready to go home, where he could reside in peace, without taunting peers and loud classmates. But Thomas stopped him before he could go, a gentle hand on his shoulder that Alastair could still feel the weight of even now, and told him that he didn’t have to be like this, if he didn’t want to. That Thomas would stand by him if he needed him to.

In quiet agreement, Alastair had tried to fight a little less ferociously, and Thomas kept his promise. His reputation still preceded him— most kids steered clear of him if they got the chance. Others took his silence as another opportunity to strike, asking him where his gut had gone, taunting him for the way he had lashed out before.

In those moments, Thomas kept his promise. Like a true battle hero, he always stuck up for Alastair. One person telling them to leave him alone seemed to be enough, and soon, the taunting stopped in either direction.

At first, Alastair wasn’t sure what to do with Thomas. He was more of an ally than a friend, someone who defended him out of righteousness rather than personal feelings towards him. He wanted to thank him, but he didn’t know how. 

He didn’t completely understand him, either: how had Thomas even realised it was all just a front? Why did he try so hard to defend a random kid he barely even knew?

(Later, Alastair would get an answer to both those questions: he’s just like that. Still is.)

In an attempt to both figure him out and show his gratitude, Alastair had tried to pay a little more attention to him. Talk a bit more often. Show an interest in him.

And slowly but surely, Thomas had gone from an ally to a close friend.

He still remembered every afternoon spent trading Pokémon, or chasing each other with sticks in the park, or making fun of the dumb people who picked on him behind their backs to make the pain a bit more bearable. 

Thomas was there for him, no matter what. He never told anyone about the times he saw Alastair cry because the words got to him, and kept every secret Alastair told him like his promise. Thomas could have chosen to ruin him any time. He never did.

Their friendship was so very intense to Alastair. He would get so jealous of anyone who was close to Thomas, and wanted to spend as much time with him as possible. It came with a certain shame, too. He couldn’t just demand Thomas’s constant attention like that. Who did he even think he was to him?

He was too polite to ever say it, but Alastair knew Thomas didn’t want to be around him the way he wanted to be around Thomas. He was a sweet, well-liked boy, surrounded by friends and cousins that all appreciated and loved him in the most genuine way. Alastair was one of many to him, while Thomas was the only one Alastair had. 

He never told Thomas how much their friendship had meant to him. He couldn’t ever. The pain of rejection of the only person that truly mattered would be too much to handle.

They only knew each other for a year, which was a strange thought. Thomas was more important to him than anyone else had ever been. When he was younger, he did have various close friends, who he saw regularly over a number of years: there had been a neighbourhood boy named Clive, but his name didn’t echo through his mind like Thomas’s did. There was a girl called Inez he occasionally hung out with, too, but as the years went by, her face became blurrier in his mind. Thomas’ smile was still crystal clear.

It took years to figure it all out. Why missing him felt like an ache, why he couldn’t ever possibly forget details about Thomas he hadn’t ever put the effort into even knowing about others.

He told himself they were simply close friends, but nights spent remembering every idle touch and dumb joke and compliment that had ever left his lips proved otherwise. At a certain point, Alastair realised he didn’t look at other boys the way he was expected to, and it all clicked then.

He had never told Cordelia about it. How would he explain what Thomas meant to him without revealing shameful details about his past? It wasn’t ever worth it, especially since he was fairly sure Cordelia had not ever noticed his friendship with Thomas in the year it existed. She was too caught up in her own life back then, a starry-eyed eleven-year-old, not half as empathetic and caring towards her brother as she was now. 

He didn’t love him anymore, but he loved his memory. And Thomas was going to remain just that: a thought that occasionally echoed through his head. A sweet reminder of a more innocent life.

But then, his parents announced they were going back, and Alastair would be lying if he said Thomas wasn’t the first place his mind went to. It didn’t feel entirely real, none of it, until the first day of school.

There, in the corner of the classroom, sat Thomas Lightwood. Twice as tall, three times as broad as he used to be, but it took Alastair less than a second to recognize him. He still had the same kind gaze, same calm demeanor.

He didn’t dare talk to him. He didn’t expect Thomas to even remember him, and he didn’t know how to deal with that reality— that Alastair was an insignificant detail in the life of the one person whose memory made his all the more bearable.

And so he dodged him. He didn’t mind keeping to himself. It was what he was used to, being on the road so much, his only company being his family. It wasn’t particularly hard, since they didn’t seem to share many classes.

But then, Cordelia had invited (well, forced) him to a party in town, hosted by someone called Anna he didn’t know. It wasn’t until he was in their apartment, surrounded by strangers from all over town, his sister talking to some of her old and new friends, that he realised what he had gotten himself into.

Hung in the dead center of the wall was a picture of a family. Three sets of parents stood proudly with their children. Anna was in it, too, but a shorter, more round-faced version. James and Lucie still had the big eyes he had occasionally spotted peering at him from behind the living room couch half a decade ago.

And there, in the dead center of the photo, inbetween two stone-faced older sisters, stood Thomas. It was the Thomas he remembered: small, but not fragile, not yet abandoned by careless childhood innocence. Staring into those big brown eyes was like staring straight into the past.

Alastair was ready to leave there and then. If James and Lucie were at this party, Thomas had to be too, which was something he didn’t feel like dealing with now or ever.

He turned around to walk out the door like he had never been here in the first place, and he would have, if someone hadn’t blocked the way.

The noise of chatter, scuffling feet and glasses clinking against one another melted away in an instant, a gaussian blur cast over all of his surroundings. Alastair felt his heart drop to his stomach, panic rising, nausea coming up despite the fact he hadn’t had a single drink.

Thomas simply said hello.

* * *

“It’s been a while since I looked like that, huh?” Thomas said, looking at the picture.

Alastair tried his best to act casual, but it was too much: Thomas being an actual flesh person, not a ghost of his past, standing here, right in front of him, breathing,  _ talking _ . His voice didn’t sound the way he remembered it. The years had made it deeper. It was uncanny: this was Thomas, but he didn’t look or sound like Thomas. 

“How have you been?” Thomas-not-Thomas-maybe-Thomas asked. “It’s been so long. It’s good to have you back.”

So he did remember him. The feeling that rose up in Alastair told him that there was no doubt in the world that this was, in fact, Thomas Lightwood.

“Hi,” Alastair said, and mentally punched himself for not being able to come up with something better. “I’ve been fine. It’s sort of weird, honestly. Being back, I mean.” 

“I can imagine,” Thomas said. “It must be like walking straight into your past. This place hasn’t changed one bit in the past decade or so.”

“I like it that way,” Alastair said. He looked up at Thomas. Alastair always had been taller than him, by at least a few inches, but Thomas now towered over him. Alastair wondered what he had been eating. 

Thomas smiled, and the whole room lit up. “I thought you would.” 

“I didn’t think you would remember me,” Alastair confessed. The words just slipped out. He was about to backtrack, but Thomas spoke before he did:

“Of course I did,” Thomas said. “We were such good friends back then.” 

A short silence fell. Alastair had a million things to ask him, but he couldn’t say any of them out loud. Did Thomas think about him often? What had their friendship meant to him? What had he been doing all those years? Did he want to go back to how they were? Did he ever miss him? Does he still?

Instead, Alastair said: “We were.” 

“Do you know many people in town? I don’t think I’ve heard many people mentioning you,” Thomas said. 

“Uh,” Alastair replied, “not really, no.” He felt somewhat embarrassed to admit he didn’t know anyone after a month back in town. He just didn’t know where to start getting to know people: everyone already had friends, and he really didn’t mind being by himself. Or perhaps that was just the easier choice.

“It’s good you’re here, then,” Thomas said. “You should meet some of my friends. Do you know Christopher?”

Alastair ended up talking to Thomas’ cousin for what felt like about five hours. It was well-intended, but Alastair understood about half of the things that came out of Christopher’s mouth, and when Thomas left to talk to someone else, Alastair became trapped in a prison of social convention. It would be a lot easier to just walk away mid-what-felt-like-a-science-TED-talk, but Alastair wanted to be a kinder person, especially with Thomas around. So, he sucked it up, and listened to a monologue about test tubes and acids with complicated names a little longer. From his stories, Alastair wondered how he was still allowed into the lab at school.

Eventually, Christopher let him go, and Alastair was free. He truly had no idea where Christopher had run off to, only that he was unsupervised. He was sure the small fire that had started in the kitchen had nothing to do with it.

Alastair decided he needed a breather and some quiet, so he decided to go to his favourite hiding place at every party, a kingdom of solitude and peace, ever present and more reliable than one’s closest friend: the bathroom.

He ended up sitting on the edge of the bath, a cup of water from the sink in his hands. He could hear the chatter through the door, but it was muffled enough to give some inner peace. The solitude didn’t last long, though, as the bathroom door opened and someone walked through it. He cursed himself for forgetting to lock the door. 

“Sorry, I’ll leave, I didn’t mean to—” Thomas started, shielding his eyes. 

Alastair let out a small laugh. “You didn’t walk in on anything. I’m just sitting here.”

“Oh,” Thomas said, removing his hand from his face, and looked at Alastair with a goofy smile. “Why are you hiding out here?”

“Just…” Alastair made some vague motions with his hand. “You know.” 

Thomas sat down next to him. The cheap fluorescents made him look paler than he was. They reflected into his eyes, bright white reflections in a dark pool. “Must be a family trait. I saw your sister run off with James just now.”

“Dear God.” Alastair grimaced. “She’s been back for a month, and she’s already chasing boys around.”

Thomas laughed. “Don’t worry, James is a great guy. Plus, I’m willing to bet any money you’ve been in her position before. I know I have.” 

Alastair felt a flush creep up to his cheeks. “What?” Did Thomas just…?

“What, you’ve never snuck off to be alone with a— a girl?”

No, of course he didn’t. Because it was hopeless.

“No,” Alastair said, “Not really” He stood up. This party had gone on for far too long. “Bye, Thomas,” he said, and left. He almost slammed the door into someone’s face. The guy behind the door let out a yelp. “Hey,” Matthew said, almost falling over. He was clearly beyond intoxicated.

His eyes went wide. “Alastair?” He said, confused, “But I thought Thomas…” A horrible smirk formed on his lips. “ _ Ohhh _ ,” he said, and Alastair wanted to slap his smug little smile off his face. “Having some alone time together, are we?” 

“Fuck off,” Alastair said, and made his way out as fast as he could. He didn’t even know what Matthew was insinuating. He didn’t want to know.

He didn’t bother looking for Cordelia. If Thomas was right, and she was somewhere outside, she would notice he was gone as soon as she returned to the party. He didn’t care how mad she would get at him for not keeping his promise. 

He just had to get out and forget this night ever existed.

* * *

Cordelia had listened quietly to Alastair’s story. He didn’t talk about his feelings a whole lot, and she felt like one wrong comment could get him to shut his mouth entirely and never open it again. 

“Alastair,” she said, “You could have told us. We would have found a way to stop those kids for being so nasty to you—” But Alastair shook his head. “You wouldn’t. You would probably just have made everything worse. Plus, what’s the point in going over it now? It’s ancient history at this point.”

She sighed. “I guess... I just wish I could have been there for you. I’m sorry. I will be from now on. I promise.” She would be. Even at parties where James Herondale asked her to dance on the street.

Alastair gave her a small smile. “You already have been for the past five years, Layla.” 

Cordelia smiled back. “Good,” she said, and clapped her hands together. “Now we need to come up with a plan.” 

Alastair frowned. “A plan? For what?” 

“To get you and Thomas together, of course!” 

Alastair looked horrified. “No way. We’re not coming up with any plan to do anything. Cordelia, we don’t even know if he’s  _ gay _ , much less… Cordelia,  _ no _ .”

She thought of Matthew’s words. So this is what he had alluded to that night of the party. but had he meant that Thomas actually  _ did _ like boys? Or that he only questioned it, only to realise he didn’t?

“We can figure that out, though. What else are you going to do? Sit here, all miserable, waiting for your crush of five years to confess his love to you out of nowhere?”

“Maybe,” Alastair grumbled.

“Absolutely not,” Cordelia said, sternly. “Does he even know  _ you’re _ gay?”

“Well. He might?”

“Alastair, have you even talked to him since?”

He didn’t reply. “ _ Alastair, _ ” she said.

“I  _ know _ , okay,” he said. “But I don’t even know how. We share like, one class. And I am  _ not _ walking up to him out of nowhere.”

She sighed. “You’re absolutely hopeless, aren’t you?”

“A bit,” Alastair admitted.

“We’ll figure something out,” Cordelia reassured him. “We’ll get you those sweet, sweet Thomas smooches, and—” Alastair made some sputtering noises. “ _ And _ in the meantime, you are going to stop carrying the weight of your secrets everywhere you go. You know I’m here for you. So don’t you dare try and do this all on your own, because you don’t have to.”

Honestly, what’s with boys and keeping secrets?

Alastair looked at her with a small, grateful smile. “I know. Thanks, Layla.”

“Good, now give me a hug,” she said, and moved towards him to wrap her arms around him. “And for the record,” Cordelia said, holding her brother tightly, “Matthew might actually hold your hand if you asked him to. He’s like that.” 

Alastair chuckled. “Good to know.”

* * *

**Cordelia (5:32PM):** SOS I need your genius

**Lucie (5:33PM):** i gotchu what do you need

**Cordelia (5:33PM):** can we hang out like, asap

**Cordelia (5:33PM):** NO James this is between us girls

**Lucie (5:33PM):** done and done let me know when you’re available and i will make your problems disappear like i will James

**Cordelia (5:33PM):** ……..what are you planning on doing to James

**Lucie (5:33PM):** :)

**Cordelia (5:33PM):** you are so terrifying

**Lucie (5:33PM):** you’re not so bad yourself<3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh matthew you sweet rude idiot. he didn’t intend it that way.
> 
> for the record i had NO idea i was going to write thomastair as a plotline into this fic until i was in the middle of it. i have no idea if this is any good but if you hated it, fear not, for we will go back to our regularly scheduled cordelia/james/matthew(?) antics soon enough.
> 
> thank you for reading!!!  
> xx victoria


	6. once in twenty lifetimes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay so remember how i said this fic was gonna be between 6 and 10 chapters? that was really funny of me i should consider joining a circus
> 
> be prepared for at least 10 chapters, probably more (12 ish? i think we’re about halfway through.)
> 
> enjoy the chapter now sweethearts!!!

“Alright,” Cordelia said, “So, out of respect, I can’t actually tell you who this is about. Or what it’s about. But you’re smart, and you get people, and so I will be using an extremely elaborate metaphor to explain this all to you, in hopes you can come up with some useful advice. Okay?”

“Okay,” Lucie said. “Strange metaphor, big secret. I will try not to immediately try and find out who it’s about but I can’t promise anything.” She was sitting sideways in a large chair in her room, her brown hair in two small buns that were almost falling apart. Her feet were flung over one of the arm rests. “Go.”

“Right. So. There’s this person I know, right? And they’re…” Cordelia paused to think. “A very good businessperson. But the thing is, I think it would be great if they had a partner. A business partner, I mean. And they do too.”

“What kind of business do they have?” Lucie asked.

“Um,” Cordelia frowned. “Does it matter?” Lucie looked at her like she had grown another head. “Yes! I’m trying to establish a plot here,” she said, as if it was ridiculous that Cordelia would ever consider not doing so. She really should have considered having this conversation with someone other than a writer.

Cordelia sighed. “Fine. They’re… A florist.” Lucie nodded in agreement.

“But the thing is, this florist has a very specific person in mind for this partnership. And there’s absolutely no one else on earth who would be as perfect of a partner as this person. I’m convinced of it.” She thought of how Thomas had been there for Alastair when no one else was. How the easier choice would have been to turn a blind eye, but he did the exact opposite.

“But the thing is,” she continued, “We don’t know if this person is also a florist. And you can’t go into business with someone who doesn’t have the same type of business, right? So, we’re trying to find out if this potential partner is also a florist, or… Not a florist. Like, um, a...”

“A drug dealer,” Lucie commented.

“Lucie!” Cordelia exclaimed, half laughing.

“What?” Lucie said, “It’s the exact opposite of a florist, if you ask me.”

“Alright, well, we don’t know if this person is a florist or a  _ drug dealer _ . And you can’t just ask a drug dealer if they’re a florist, right? Because that would just be terribly awkward.” 

“So, basically, you want to find out if this other person is a florist or a drug dealer, so they can be business partners, but you don’t actually want to ask them if they’re a florist, or if they even want to be partners.” Lucie said.

Cordelia nodded. “Basically.”

“I think a logical first step would be finding out whether they’re a florist or not,” Lucie said. “Doesn’t anyone else know their… Profession? Can’t you just ask?”

Cordelia frowned. “Well, I guess… I mean, I could. But it’s sort of a sensitive topic, and I don’t know the… florist-slash-drug dealer that well. It would be best if they would directly tell the florist, but I know they wouldn’t ever dare ask in case the answer to either question is no.”

“Because it could threaten... their business’s reputation?” Lucie asked.

“More like the florist has a weak ego,” Cordelia replied dryly, “and would go into a permanent state of self-pity.”

“Alright,” Lucie said, “So, we need the florist and the drug dealer-slash-florist to talk, basically. And hope the drug dealer casually drops they’re a florist and proposes the partnership themselves, which is not only highly unlikely to happen but also very difficult to force.”

“Essentially,” Cordelia sighed. “Which is why I came to ask for your help. Because I’m 99% sure you have read or written this fic before.”

Lucie chuckled. “You’re right about that. Let me think.” She turned to sit in the chair properly, and pondered with a familiar look in her eyes that briefly reminded Cordelia of James.

James and her had been talking more often lately, and as a result, she saw him everywhere she went, every little detail in her life reminding her of him. They would stay up far too late on nights that really didn’t allow it, sometimes discussing life over text, sometimes simply forwarding each other as many strange memes as they could find. He had become a permanent and stable part of her life, now.

As a result, she felt like she was finally starting to understand the small things about him she didn’t know how to interpret first. His silence wasn’t a sign of hostility, it simply meant he was comfortable enough with her that he didn’t feel the need to fill the quiet in every room. Any distance he tried to take from her was due to his own insecurities, not something she had said or done.

“Okay, so, what I think the main issue here is,” Lucie said, after a brief moment of contemplation, “Is that the second party, being the potential drug dealer, doesn’t know anything about what’s going on with the florist, meaning—” She paused mid-sentence.

“Hold on,” Lucie said, “Are you trying to ask me out? Because I know several people who would probably be greatly disappointed if you did. And I just don’t see you that way, sorry.” 

“What?” Cordelia said. “No, not at all, and,  _ what _ ?”

“Oh, don’t worry,” Lucie said, “Not in a homophobic way. More in a ‘why-Lucie-why-not-me’ way.”

Cordelia blinked. She felt like she might lose her mind. “I don’t c— I mean, good, I’m glad everyone can be themselves but  _ what do you mean people would be disappointed, Lucie. _ ”

Lucie waved her hand in a dismissive motion. “It’s just speculation. Nothing I can say for sure. But I think you should keep your eye out, y’know?”

“Lucie,” Cordelia said, “One day, I am literally going to duel you in a car park.”

Lucie smiled sweetly. “I’d like to watch you try.”

“So,” she continued, clapping her hands together, “Our problem is that the drug dealer doesn’t know anything about the florist, right? So we need to get them to talk. One-on-one. Do you think you could talk to the drug dealer privately without it being super weird?”

Cordelia frowned. “Not exactly. We really don’t know each other well. So that’s a dead end, I’m afraid.”

“It doesn’t have to be,” Lucie said. “We just need a mediator. Do you know anyone who does know both people? Or someone who links the two of you?”

Several, Cordelia thought. Matthew, James… Even Lucie herself. “Yes,” She said. “I do.”

Lucie had a daring glimmer in her pale blue eyes. “Good. Here’s what we’re going to do.”

* * *

**Cordelia (5:52PM):** I need your help

**Cordelia (5:52PM):** but I can’t say too much unless I know you’re in 

**Cordelia (5:52PM):** I just need you to trust me on this one ok

**Matthew (5:53PM):** is it illegal and/or dangerous

**Cordelia (5:53PM):** no?

**Matthew (5:54PM):** pity

**Matthew (5:54PM):** i’m still in tho

* * *

The day after, she hoped to see Matthew in history class. He had agreed to help her, even though he didn’t quite know what was going on, and that was exactly why she had asked him to. Lucie would figure it all out, and James… She wasn’t sure if he would make time for her like that. She wanted him to, but she knew he was focusing on his exams right now.

Matthew, on the other hand, didn’t seem to have any trouble doing one million things and then document them on his Instagram story.

She wanted to thank him in person for helping her out, but as students flooded into the classroom his seat remained empty. He wasn’t just late. He wasn’t there at all.

She turned to James. “Have you seen Matthew?”

James looked at her, eyes like golden pools of honey. The afternoon light in the classroom reflected in it, giving them a seemingly infinite depth she could jump and get lost in.

“He went home halfway through the day,” James answered. “I haven’t heard anything from him since.” 

Cordelia felt a twinge of worry for Matthew. “How come? Is everything okay?” 

“He’s just stressed out for exams, is all,” James explained. “It’ll be fine, he always is.”

Cordelia frowned. She recalled the way he had been in the woods. “Are you sure? I feel like he sometimes puts on a brave face.”

The teacher shushed the class, trying to get them quiet so the lesson could start.

“I’m sure,” James said, reassuringly. “I’ve known Matthew for so long, it’s not uncommon for him to get like this. There’s honestly nothing to worry about. He says he’s fine, and I believe him.”

The teacher shushed again.

“I’m just saying that maybe, that’s—” Cordelia started, but she was interrupted by the teacher calling her name and asking her to be quiet. Reluctantly, she turned away from James.

She wondered how much James knew about how Matthew was feeling. From their conversation, she had already drawn the conclusion that he pretended to be okay when he wasn’t far more often than she probably had ever noticed.

Class dragged on. Cordelia tried best to keep her mind focused, but it was hard not to think of Matthew or Alastair. Even by the end of it, her mind was still spinning with worry and possibilities.

“Working hard?” James asked, halfway through class.

“What?” Cordelia said, and then realised she still had a blank sheet of paper in front of her where there were supposed to be notes.

“It’s just…” She didn’t feel like getting into all of it. “All this studying melting my brain, I guess. All this cramming is getting to me.”

“We could revise together,” James said. “It’ll still be studying, but hopefully a bit less tedious. If you want to, I mean.”

“I’d love that,” Cordelia said. She really had not been spending as much time with James as she wanted to. They hadn’t even addressed what happened at the party. She wasn’t sure she was ever going to. “Is next Friday okay? This weekend is sort of busy for me, and I’ve got a thing on Saturday. And I might have another thing on Sunday.” 

“You’re popular,” James said, with a sweet smile. Those words could have sounded like a mockery, but from James they were nothing but a compliment. “Friday’s perfect. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Me too,” Cordelia said.

* * *

A week after, James had shown up at her doorstep like he promised. He said he would help her with English lit, which they both knew was barely anything more than an excuse. They had bonded over their love of reading as children, and they still did, meaning there probably wouldn’t be a single question on their exam they would not be able to answer off the top of their head.

Still, it was absolutely necessary that they would revise together, they had decided.

“So,” James said, “Macbeth or Great Expectations first?”

James and Cordelia were crammed together at a small desk in the corner of Cordelia’s room, barely enough space for the two of them to sit next to each other. It would be fine as long as neither of them decided to inhale too deeply.

A few weeks ago, being this close to him would have caused butterflies in her stomach to flutter up and fill her with an exciting sort of anxiety. Now, they both had grown more comfortable around one another, and it was a different kind of feeling. 

Close still wasn’t close enough, but it was a longing for comfort, not a thrill. There was no adrenaline rush when his hand brushed against hers, just a warm feeling of “ _ he’s here”. _

She had lit a few candles, which was probably a fire hazard next to the books her and James had opened. Her parents had received them as a housewarming gift, and Cordelia had been quick to ask if she could have them. It created a nice ambiance.

“I have a feeling you want me to say Great Expectations,” Cordelia replied.

James smiled. “You know me well.” 

Great Expectations had been James’ favourite novel ever since he had read it. He had mentioned it to her once, and she had immediately read it, very carefully, trying to understand what it was that made James love it so much. She looked for him in the pages, searched for every trace of him between the letters, but came back empty-handed.

“Explain it to me, then,” she said.

“Alright, I’ll save you the plot details, since I know you’ve read it yourself,” said James. “Essentially, it’s a social commentary on the rapidly changing world Dickens lived in.” 

“I don’t think your heart lies with Dickens’ opinions on the Victorian prison system that much, though,” Cordelia interrupted him. James' eyebrows went up in surprise. “You care about the characters,” she continued. “You always have.”

“I can’t believe you actually know that,” he smiled, looking at her in slight disbelief. Cordelia just shrugged, showing him a small smile of her own.

Of course she paid attention to him like that. She wondered if James genuinely hadn’t noticed, or if he thought he wasn’t worth noticing himself.

“It’s just… It doesn’t matter what time a story is from, life stays the same,” he said. “The world around us changes, but people are people. We still have the same values and passions as we did a century ago, as we did a millennium ago.” 

There was a familiar twinkle in his amber eyes. This is how she liked him best: sharing with her the things he loved most, with no inhibitions or shame whatsoever. In these moments, he was like a shooting star, a golden glimmer in the sky, terribly rare and the most beautiful sight you had ever seen.

“That’s why I love it so much,” he continued. “That’s why I love literature so much. It transcends time the way nothing else quite does. Okay, _ what _ ?”

“What,  _ what? _ ” Cordelia replied.

“You’re staring,” James said. 

“Am not.” She absolutely was.

“Are.” With a dumb smile on her face, too.

They both let out a chuckle. James shook his head.

“Tell me about the characters,” Cordelia said.

“Alright.” James was still grinning. Cordelia would do atrocious things to see that grin every day.

“Essentially, it’s about a boy who loves a girl who embodies everything he cannot have, and he loves her entirely. And then he leaves, and obtains for himself all she ever held over him, but he loves her still. They don’t talk, but he dreams of her. And then he comes back, after having lost everything, and he loves her still.”

“Why does he love her?” Cordelia asked. “If they had not seen each other in so long, and he only loved her because of what she held over him, it hardly seems genuine. And Estella was cruel to Pip in so many ways, even if she had good reason to be.”

James shrugged. “Why does anyone love anyone? Maybe it’s because she was beautiful when his life was anything but, maybe it’s because she represents everything he could not have. Maybe it’s because she is a part of his past, and therefore forever a part of his soul. Maybe people just love without reason, sometimes.”

_ Oh, _ she thought.

James was a friend to her in the tumultuous weeks after coming back, helping her settle in and introducing her to his friends to make her more comfortable. 

He was beautiful in a way she could only imagine being, had a stable childhood unlike the one she had had chasing opportunities around the globe, and seemed to have a family that loved each other beyond blood, while she barely even knew her cousins.

They grew up together, and as a result, they were forever entwined: he was in every book she read, every daisy she saw, every street of the town that had once been their world. Not even silence and distance had been able to rip that part away from her. He was everywhere. He would always be.

So maybe she loved him. And maybe it was because she just did.

But Cordelia knew how the story ended, too.

“And yet she doesn't love him back. She never did.”

“Didn’t she?” James said. “She clearly holds him in higher regard compared to other men, and she never broke his heart the way she breaks other mens’ hearts. Isn’t that love?”

She hoped it was.

“But why would she refuse to tell him if she loved him?” Cordelia asked.

“Maybe she doesn’t know it herself,” James said. Cordelia could see the warm flickering of the candle on his face. “Or maybe she does choose not to. There’s no correct interpretation. Any good novel raises those types of questions, but answers none of them.”

“You should study English literature at uni,” Cordelia said. “I don’t know anyone else who’s half as profound when it comes to dusty old books as you.” 

“You’re the second person to tell me that in the past week,” a small smile spread across James’s lips. “Although Grace used slightly different words.”

Cordelia tried to suppress the small pang of jealousy she felt, a selfish, small-minded unease trying to settle between her ribs.

“Grace? The girl from the party?”  _ The girl you had been talking to all evening instead of me? _ “I didn’t know you knew her that well.” She didn’t look at him. She didn’t want him to notice any envy in her eyes.

“I don’t, really,” James said, “but it turns out she’s top of her class in chemistry, so she offered to help me prepare for my exams.” 

Of course. She’s just helping him out. Nothing to worry about.

Was she?

“I didn’t know you were that bad at chemistry,” Cordelia said. As far as she knew, James didn’t have trouble in any of his classes. He was an eager student, one of those who seemingly never had any trouble finding motivation to spend hours on end on their homework. 

“I’m not,” he said, confirming her thoughts. “But… I don’t know. It just felt rude to say no. She’s nice. I think you would like her.”

An embarrassing sense of relief washed over her. So it had just been out of politeness.

“You might meet her at the dance, if she plans on going. But that’s quite some time away.” 

“I thought Matthew was the one hosting a party after exams?” Matthew was very determined to celebrate their freedom, and as a result, he had been planning a party for months now. To give everyone something to look forward to, he said.

“That’s true too, yes,”James explained, “but this is the end of year school dance. Math’s party is specifically for Year 11s, plus, there will be significantly less teachers. And significantly less sophistication.”

“Are you planning on going?” James did not like crowds, he had told her. Apparently his escape from Anna’s party wasn’t a rare one— Matthew had told her he could not recall a single party James hadn’t at least attempted to escape.

“Yeah, I think I might, even if it’s just for Matthew. He likes it when I’m there. I have no idea when it is, though, so I hope I don’t have anything important the next day.”  _ I like it when you’re there, too, _ Cordelia thought.

“I’m seeing him tomorrow,” Cordelia said. “I’ll ask him.”

James raised his eyebrows. “You’re with Matthew tomorrow? He didn’t mention it to me.” 

“It’s just this… thing we’ve got together. Nothing special, really.” She couldn’t tell James of her plan. It’s what they had all agreed on.

“Right,” James said. He looked away from her, down at his slender hands, his dark eyelashes brushing against his cheekbones. “Um, have fun.”

She only noticed how close he had been to her when he was moving away. It was like a switch flipped in his energy: the warmth and openness he had shown her was now gone, windows now boarded up for a storm Cordelia didn’t understand was happening. Had she said something wrong?

“Thanks,” Cordelia said, unsure of what else to say. 

“Perhaps I should get going,” James said. “I still need to do some revision for French and maths. Paraboles and such.” 

“Right, of course,” Cordelia said. 

She helped him gather all the books he had spread across her desk, making sure he didn’t accidentally forget something, and blew out the candles so as to not leave them unattended. A dark trail of smoke rose up from the charred wick. The smell reminded her of the bonfires James had lit in his backyard.

They walked downstairs. As she waited for him to put his shoes back on (Cordelia’s parents were very specific about no one being allowed to set a single step in their house whilst wearing shoes), she unlocked the door for him.

“I’ll see you on Monday,” James said. “Bye, Daisy.” 

“Bye,” she said. James started to turn away from her, but just in time, she felt a burst of unexpected bravery.

“I like you too, by the way.”

James turned to look at her. “What?” 

“The night of the party,” Cordelia said. “I told you I didn’t think anyone liked me. And you said you did like me, and I didn’t say it back. But I do, and I thought you should know.”

He smelled that beautiful smile of his, the one that lit up his eyes like stars in the dark night that was his hair. “That means a lot,” he said.

“Anytime,” Cordelia replied, and he turned away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> dear readers, today i give you: the mental image of alastair and thomas as messy florists. tomorrow? who knows!
> 
> i sure do wonder why james could probably have any objections to cordelia hanging out with his best friend all the time! so strange, am i right! i’m sure there’s nothing else going on here!!!!!!
> 
> as always, thank you for reading :) and sorry for the wait, i've been SUPER busy lately but i'm still trying to update regularly-ish, i promise.  
> much love, vic xx 
> 
> ps: i never actually read great expectations. i just read a plot summary and an analysis online and then just sort of ran with it, which coincidentally is exactly how i passed all of my literature tests in high school. i hope any of the things i said made sense.


End file.
